Skip the Protocol
by greenfairy13
Summary: Ten II and Rose at Bad Wolf Bay. Happy One-Shot.


He no longer has a home.

They are standing on a cold beach, staring at the spot where the TARDIS just faded into another universe.

He looks at the woman next to him. The blue box, that is now gone, gone _forever_, has been the only home he ever had – for almost a millennia.

A blue box, traded in for the blonde women who looks at him with a mixture of uncertainty, fear and something he can't put his finger on.

"_She's so worth it," he thinks._

He no longer has a respiratory bypass.

When Donna touched the jar containing the energy of 87,653% of a regeneration and he was created (born?), it obviously wasn't enough to equip him with that kind of physical benefit.

"_I get a chance, though," he thinks -hopes._

He no longer has two hearts.

"Rose, I lost my heart to you," he tells her cheekily and the solemn, stony mask on her face cracks first into a soft smile before she's beaming at him. He gets to see the full power of a real Rose-Tyler-smile. It's the kind of smile holding the power to illuminate an entire street despite the occasion of another (now avoided) apocalypse.

"What now?" she asks.

"Weeeell...," he's drawing the word out, giving himself time to consider the answer. "I don't think there's a protocol. Did you know that the word "protocol" originates from the Greek term "protokollon" and is best translated envelope folder and..."

She swats his arm affectionately and rolls her eyes. "Would you mind not going all Oncoming Babble on me?" It isn't a question but a request.

"I think you should push me away," he tells her after a moment and she blinks.

"What?!"

"I. Think. You. Should. Push. Me. Away." He's talking to her as if she was a bit slow-witted and she just stares at him, mouth agape.

"Weeell..." Pushing his hands into his trouser-pockets and staring up at the Zeppelins floating peacefully in the sky he starts to elaborate, "I just changed again. I stayed with you and left you – again. On the same beach you declared your feelings for me. I admit, that's quite rude – even for my standards. Remember? Rude and not ginger, that's me." He flashes her a toothy grin.

"Right." She swallows heavily and nods.

"But," he's waving a finger in front of her face for emphasis, "to be fair, you should give me chance to prove myself. You could hold me at arm's length for weeks and months, you could refuse to call me "Doctor" until one fine morning or afternoon – we should work out the details – I do something so extraordinarily brilliant you don't doubt me any longer."

"Don't doubt you," she mutters irritatedly and the Doctor goes on.

"I, on the other hand, will have to play the part of the highly frustrated one: I will mourn my lost TARDIS and, as you are unwilling to accept the fact that I'm still me, will question my decision to stay on Earth..."

"Does that mean you don't want to be here?" Rose interrupts him and he frowns.

"Now, why would you think that? I wanted to be human for so long now. It's the one adventure I thought I could never have with the woman I love. I was just informing you about the protocol before you chose to interrupt me so rudely. Would you please keep in mind that I'm supposed to be the rude one? Where was I? Right. I'll question my decision while you struggle with the nature of my identity. At that point we will say rather nasty things to each other – things we will definitely regret later."

"Right," she chimes in. "And then you'll be totally overwhelmed by life on the slow-path. You'll hate doing domestics such as going to work or cooking with me." A little grin is tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Right. Just leave out the fact that I've been stuck in Earth before for about seventy years and did fairly well." He pouts.

"Right."

"Right."

"Right."

"Stop saying "right"."

"Right." Closing the distance between them, Rose stands up on tip-toes and presses her mouth on his lips. Soon, he encircles her waist and deepens the kiss leisurely. They are still kissing when Jackie clears her throat subtly.

"Right!" they say in unison before bursting into a fit of giggles, clutching their stomachs.

"Doctor...as fond as I'm of your protocol: could we skip it?"

"Oh, Rose-Tyler! I was afraid you'd never ask. Allons-y!"


End file.
